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163 stories from 11 authors
I was sitting on the pier of the small port of Obernon, near the village of Salis, looking at Antibes, bathed in the setting sun.
“My dear fellow,” said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, “life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent.
Maurice Brun and Armand Armagnac were crossing the sunlit Champs Elysee with a kind of vivacious respectability.
Since the beginning of the campaign Lieutenant Lare had taken two cannon from the Prussians.